Free Range Eggs

“The waiter said, ‘All of our chicken is free-range.’ And I said, ‘He doesn’t look very free there on that plate.’” – Bob Joe Briggs, “We Are the Weird”

I baked Suzy Q's today.
Another adventure in baking.
But it was also mildly entertaining. Because when I opened up the carton of eggs, they were brown and were marked with a stamp identifying them as "free-range" eggs. I'll have to ask someone what makes these better than the eggs I am used to purchasing.

What I found even funnier was the egg carton's description of what makes their eggs better. I wish I had written it down. But "free-range” evokes a positive image of chickens living outdoors with plenty of fresh air, sunshine and open space to roam in. To me it also reminds me of the Bill Engvall bit where he talks about his wife buying "free-range" chicken.


A snippet from the comedy bit:
The other day my wife and I were at the store. She said, "Go get some chicken.” she's on this big chicken kick right now; she said it's healthier. Which, I grew up around chickens - it's not, trust me. They're yard birds, all right? I've seen chickens eat food out of their own poop. Tell me why that's good for me! But I ain't gonna win that argument, right? And so I get this package, grab a pack of chicken, throw it in the cart, and she goes "No, don't get that kind. Get free-range chicken." And I said, "What are you talking about?" And she goes, “You got cooped-up chicken.” And I said, “All chickens are cooped-up chickens. There's no such thing as a free-range chicken.” I said, "I studied history, I did real well in it. And I don't ever remember reading about the herds of chickens that used to roam this land. There was never the great chicken wars. Nobody hunts chickens - they're not wild."


So the whole time I'm making the Suzy Q's I'm picturing chickens running wild across the plains.
Good thing I was alone in the apartment as I was giggling to myself, which could have made me look silly, right?